


Heavy is the Head

by Cornelius_Podmore



Category: The Originals (TV), The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bad ass women, Boyfriend Klaus Mikaelson, F/M, Fluff, Husband Klaus Mikaelson, I pulled this out of my ass, Klaus Mikaelson vs. Equally Strong-willed and sexy gf, Smut, bad ass witches, but like its going well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-13 02:02:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9101410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cornelius_Podmore/pseuds/Cornelius_Podmore
Summary: That Wears the Crown. New Orleans is known for the skeletons in its closets. It's known for its magic. It's known for its history. And it's known for its ghosts. Klaus Mikaelson has more than a few skeletons in his closet, but only one brings back memories of a time in his life when he was completely, unflinchingly, peacefully happy. And when he gets a glimpse of the girl at the center of it all, he may find that New Orleans' newest ghost is one too many for him to handle.





	1. Chapter 1

_New Orleans, present day_            

          The house was not huge, not one of the massive manors that sprouted like weeds before the Civil War and stood like tombstones after it, lining the streets of New Orleans with rusting wrought-iron fences and leaning colonnades. It wasn’t a huge house but it was older than the war and stouter and though it was being consumed by creeper and thorns and flowers that long ago escaped their pots, not a shingle nor flagstone was out of place.

          The paint did not chip, the door never opened, the concrete steps only dulled and shined from years of foot traffic (though it was the funniest thing, you never saw anyone on them). If you looked hard enough at the house, long enough, you were guaranteed to catch a glimpse of something, a flicker of life inside like the shadow cast from a candle flame. But no one ever looked at the house. And no one that ever saw these things dared to talk about it. All cities had their ghosts, things pointedly not seen, things seen but never mentioned—she was one of them.  


	2. Chapter 2

             Klaus clasped his hands behind his back and looked around amusedly. He perused the street, lines of carts, masses of people and color, the smell of comfort food in all its multicultural forms. New Orleans did enjoy its street festivals. Almost once a month this sort of thing was going on, although this seemed to be a big one.

 

             A nagging restlessness was what ultimately drove him out of the house. That, and hunger. And, of course, Elijah’s nagging suggestion that they try to keep a low profile for the sake of peace. Their truce with Marcel was a tad strained at the moment, on account of Klaus killing a few of his men, and Elijah, as ever, was trying to be a mediator. Klaus didn’t think he needed a mediator. After all, he’d never lost an argument.

 

            He smiled, sampling food from one of the trucks. Say what you will about the city, it never failed to lift his spirits.

 

            “You always excelled at following directions.” Rebekah appeared beside him.

 

            “The day is far too nice to be spending it hulled up indoors, sister. Have you tried this Etouffee?”

 

            She didn’t acknowledge him or the dish. “I imagine your mood will sour once Marcel sends his attack dogs after you.”

 

            “I assure you, Rebekah, my attack dogs have a much meaner bite.” Klaus smirked, but it faltered, as did his step.

 

            Rebekah noticed his halt and looked at him. “What? What is it?”

 

            Something. He’d felt something. Sensed it. A blip on his radar. Like when an animal senses a threat. The animal doesn’t know what it is, or where its coming from, or how he even sensed it, but the ears flatten anyway, lips peel back, hackles rise . . .

 

            “Nik.” Rebekah’s voice came to him, detached, and broke his line of thought like popping a soap bubble.

 

            “Shut it.” He snapped. Turning around, scanning the crowd.

 

            Her eyebrows rose but she did as he said, glancing around herself to identify what had caught his attention. She could see nothing.

 

            His eyes scanned the crowed, every face, scrutinizing it. And then, so briefly he couldn’t be sure he saw it, her face appeared in the crowd. It was like a whisper of smoke, there and then gone as soon as it registered with him who he’d seen. He looked almost frantically around the crowd before peering into the spot where she’d disappeared, his eye eventually focusing on what stood behind it: A house. Brick and ancient and writhing with creeper vines and thorns.

 

            “Who lives there?” He asked.

 

            Rebekah looked from him back to the house. “I haven’t the foggiest idea, Nik, what’s going on?” He was scaring her. Niklaus had not looked so frightened since the time when their father was still after them.

 

            He scanned the crowd once more before he seemed to come out of it. “Nothing.” He said. “Nothing. Tell our brother I’ll be back soon, will you?”

 

            And then he disappeared into the crowd, leaving Rebekah to look after him.

 


End file.
